We could all use some rest
by Shotgun Assassin
Summary: York knows that there is such a thing as too much training. But can he convince Carolina of that? I don't own red vs blue.


We Could All Use Some Rest

Strike. Uppercut. Kick. Side kick. Back kick. Roundhouse kick. Double kick. Strike... Carolina fell into the rhythm once more as she lashed out at the glowing green targets spinning around her, each one turning red with a successful hit.  
"Round complete." said F.I.L.S.S thorough the room's speakers, "A six point three percent increase in efficiency."  
"Run it again, F.I.L.S.S." said Carolina, raising her fists again.  
"Resetting training room floor." All around her the green targets began to spin around again. The blue armored freelancer lashed out at them again.  
Strike. Uppercut. Kick. Side kick. Back kick. Roundhouse kick. Double kick. Strike... Carolina spun about the circle of targets with a grace that most dancers would be jealous of.  
"Round complete." stated F.I.L.S.S.  
"Run it again." ordered Carolina.  
"That last round showed a three point-"  
"Just run it again." snapped Carolina.  
"Resetting training room floor." Strike. Uppercut. Kick. Side kick. Back kick. Roundhouse kick. Jump kick. Strike...

_The Mother of Invention_ was quiet. Almost everyone had gone to sleep. The only sound came from the training room, where Carolina was training relentlessly. In the viewing deck sat a single person, clad in a simple T-shirt and sweat pants, with his feet up on the counter. York gave a yawn and scratched the scar on his eye as he watched Carolina repeat the same moves over and over again, each time slightly faster that the last. As he took a sip from his coffee mug, he felt a hand clap him on the shoulder.  
"Still training at this hour, huh?" York turned his head to see North standing above him. Like him, North was wearing a t-shit and sweat pants. His hair looked messy, like he just got out of bed, and he held a datapad in his hand.  
"Yeah," responded York, "she's been like this since we got back from the last mission."  
"You've gotta be kidding me, she's always been like this." said North as he walked over to the wall were the leader board was lit up. York took his legs off the counter.  
"Well, yeah." he admitted, swiveling his chair to face North, "I mean, she never did know when to stop, but now it's like she doesn't know how to stop. Always training. I guess the leader board beckons." He swiveled his chair back round to the window and resumed his watching Carolina.  
_'But it does seem to be a bit more than that.'_ he thought to himself,_ 'It seems almost personal between her and The Director. I mean, South really wants to be the best as well, but you don't see her doing this. Or maybe she does, and it's North who sits up here, drinking coffee and watching over her.'_  
North turned back to look at York.  
"You know, you don't have to watch over her." He said.  
"Could say the same to you about South." responded York defensively. North shook his head.  
"That's not really an answer." He replied. York sighed. He knew that North was right. He almost always was. He turned back to face him.  
"So what are you doing awake?"

Strike. Uppercut. Kick. Side kick. Roundhouse kick. Double kick. Strike... Inside her helmet, sweat rolled down Carolina's face. She refused to turn her cooling fans on because she felt they would distract her.  
"Round complete." Announced F.I.L.S.S.  
"Again F.I.L.S.S." Carolina simply stated for what felt like the thousandth time.  
"Agent Carolina, I think you should know that your efficiency has not improved for the past six rounds. In fact, that last round showed a two point four percent decrease." stated the computer voice. The Freelancer growled in irritation.  
"I said. Run. It. Again." she spat. If F.I.L.S.S had the capacity to sigh, she would have.  
"Resetting training room floor."  
Strike, Uppercut. Kick. Side kick. Back kick. Roundhouse kick. Double kick. Strike...

York yawned and sat down again. He enjoyed his talks with North. He seemed to be the only one he could have a sensible conversation with these days, especially on the subjects of their A.I.  
"Night North." He said, looking back down at Carolina. North turned to leave, the looked back at York.  
"Don't stay up too late." he said, like a father to a son, "You need your rest." York gave him a grin and a nod, then settled back into his chair, coffee cup in hand. Down below, Carolina completed yet another round of target practice, again with the same combination of moves.  
"Round complete." he heard F.I.L.S.S say.  
"Run it again." came Carolina's almost automated response.  
"Resetting training room floor." came the computers actual automated response. The green targets appeared again, and Carolina started again, but her movements were visibly more sluggish. York took a long drink from his mug.  
"I think we could all use some rest." He reached over and keyed the intercom on the wall.  
"F.I.L.S.S? I need your help with something."

Strike. Uppercut. Kick. Side kick. Back kick. Roundhouse kick. Double kick. Strike...  
"Round complete."  
"Run it again."  
"Res-set-seting training-ning rooooooooo-" F.I.L.S.S's voice shuddered and died. Carolina looked at the ceiling.  
"F.I.L.S.S? What's going on?" She asked.  
"It would seem as though all the training programs have erased themselves." Carolina slacked her arms.  
"What? Well fix them then!"  
"I am sorry, but that will take a long time to do. I suggest you go and get some rest and come back tomorrow."  
"No!" Shouted Carolina, not moving from the center of the room, "Just focus on the targets program and tell me when your done."  
"Come on Carolina. F.I.L.S.S is right." said a voice from behind her. Carolina spun around to see York walking up to her, not even in his armor.

"York? It was you who sabotaged F.I.L.S.S, wasn't it? What are you doing here?" demanded the armored soldier. York looked at her with his shoulders relaxed and slowly walked toward her, showing that he was not a threat.  
"Coming to take you to bed." He said with a warm smile. Carolina snorted.  
"York, I really don't have time for your perverted jokes right now." She growled at him and folded her arms. York sighed.  
"I'm not taking about that. I'm saying you need to go to sleep and rest."  
"Rest? I'm not even tired. I can go for a while still."  
"A while still? Look at you. Your doing all you can to not collapse."  
"That's stupid. Look." She unfolded an arm from her chest and held it in the air. It shook a few times then when rigid, but York could tell she locked her armor to make it look like it was steady. He shook his head.  
"Look, your going to bed even if I have to drag you there." Carolina laughed.  
"You? Beat me? You can try." And then she lashed out at him. Her first punch went right to his chest. If she landed a hit on him without armor, it would take more than his healing unit to fix that. Quickly he sidestepped the punch. Carolina brought her other hand up and tried to catch him under the jaw, but her movements were sluggish and easy to read. York moved his head to the side, just dodging her fist, then the kick that followed. Then Carolina reactively kicked off to her side, not even close to York.  
_'Just as I thought.'_ he said himself. Before Carolina could retract her foot, York struck out at her other foot, knocking her off balance. She lost her footing and fell forward, where he caught her. She was surprisingly light, despite being encased in armor. The fact that York managed to knock her off balance threw Carolina off.  
"Wh-what? How-how did you-" Her voice slowly ebbed away, and she slumped against him, passed out from exhaustion. York smiled again, gathered her up in his arms, and headed for the door.


End file.
